Valentine's Day is Horrid
by MillyBeaux
Summary: Harry gets trapped in a mysterious hidden room on Valentine's Day with a tall blond Slytherin. To get out they'll have to do the unthinkable.
1. Chapter 1

Harry ducked his head as a fat mostly-naked cherub-like creature zoomed past.

"Bloody Valentine's Day," he grumbled.

"Oh, mate, it's not so bad," Ron clapped him on the back, making his steps falter on the uneven flagstones of the dungeon. Harry looked up at his tall red-headed friend. He had a slight pink tint to his cheeks and his eyes were far away and dreamy.

"Probably better when you've got a girlfriend," Harry said as he pushed up his glasses.

"Having a girlfriend is brilliant, isn't it?" Ron sighed.

"I wouldn't know." Harry tried to keep the self-pity out of his voice, but failed. Miserably. Ron hadn't seemed to notice. He waved a hand in the air in front of his face where some hearts with lovey-dovey sayings written on them were inexplicably dancing in the air near his head.

"The ball is tonight, Harry. You've got to find a date. It's fourth year all over again, innit? Well, not for me, but you know."

Harry sighed and shuffled his feet towards Potions class a little bit faster. He hated Potions, but he hated all the Valentine's Day decorum even more, and he knew Professor Snape's classroom was his only reprieve. The Potions Master had made it abundantly clear that there would be no deliveries, no flying hearts, no passed notes, and definitely no naked angels in his class. Ever. Harry briefly smiled, enjoying the irony of agreeing with the greasy teacher he was almost always at odds with. He was actually looking forward to Potions for the first time in his seven years at Hogwarts.

A girl with bushy hair joined them from a side corridor, carrying an armful of books, roses, letters, and small packets of chocolate balanced on top. "Ron," Hermione breathed, "you have got to stop sending me these things!"

Ron's face paled. "I didn't send all that, Herm." He turned his head to and fro, as if to find the culprit right there in the dungeon hallway. "Who's it all from?!"

Hermione scoffed and tossed her hair over a shoulder. "I don't know, Ronald. I thought it was you. I mean, I'm already going to the dance with you and-" she stopped talking suddenly and looked at Harry, as if she just realized he was there. "Oh, Harry. Have you found a date yet? I know Lavender is single now and Parvati-"

Harry held up a hand. "No, 'Mione, thank you. I told you, I'm fine."

"But you have to go the dance! It's our last year. Our last dance!" She gasped suddenly, struck by an idea. "I know! You can come with us!" Hermione bobbled her packages as another naked cherub buzzed right up to her and dropped another chocolate on the pile.

Harry laughed as Ron turned an even paler shade of white. "No, that's-"

He felt a tug at his foot and then the dungeon floor was rising up to meet him. He hit hard, his face bouncing off the uneven stones, his glasses skittering away. Laughter reached his ears, the kind that comes from the expense of others. His expense. Harry knew it well.

"Mind your step, there, Scarhead."

Harry groaned and pushed himself up to his feet. What else could possibly happen today? He muttered a summoning spell and felt his glasses land gently in his outstretched hand. He put them on, noting a small crack in the left lens.

"Shut it, Malfoy, you prick," Ron came to his defense.

"Ooh, so sorry Weaselby, didn't know you spent your family's life savings on your girlfriend for Valentine's. How's your family going to eat now?" Malfoy's pale pointed face held his signature smirk. Crabbe and Goyle flanked him, guffawing at his terrible put-downs. "I do hope it's worth it and you get laid tonight." He winked at Hermione.

Ron turned bright red and stepped towards Malfoy, fist raised as if to hit him. Harry stepped between them before Ron could do something stupid. He put a finger in Malfoy's face. The Slytherin was still taller than him, probably always would be, but it didn't bother Harry. "Don't," he warned. He held Malfoy's steely glare. "Go to class, Ron."

Hermione was nodding her head. "Help me with my packages, Ron," she urged.

"Hermione, didn't you hear what he said?"

"I really don't care Ron. He doesn't matter."

Somewhere nearby a bell rang, signaling how late they all were for class. Hermione hurried away, Ron on her heels, picking up the chocolates she was dropping. "Everyone knows you're my girlfriend, don't they?" he was asking. Goyle and Crabbe broke away from Malfoy, heading to class as well.

"Where are you going?" Malfoy asked them angrily.

"Potions class," Crabbe muttered. "Got to pass this year or my dad will kill me."

"Me too," Goyle said.

"Unbelievable," Malfoy crossed his arms. "They always cheat off me anyway." Then, as if he just remembered that Harry was there, he resumed his cool glare. "What are you looking at, Potter?"

"You can't say things like that to people."

"You know who I am," Malfoy scoffed. "Yes, I can. I can say what I like to whomever I like."

Harry took a step closer. "You can't say things like that to my friends. I don't care who you are. I won't let you."

"Oh yeah? You going to stop me, Scarhead?" Malfoy drawled as he looked up and down the hallway his movements exaggerated, dramatic. "I don't see anyone stopping you. And I don't see any members of your fan club around to see you be so.. what's the word? Chivalrous? Or maybe it's righteous?" He stepped closer to Harry, his voice lowering considerably. "Or maybe it's just been a quiet year, right Harry? Nothing happening, no one needing you? Even your friends don't need you. Why would they when they have each other."

"Shut up, Malfoy." He meant to make it a threat. He meant to sound ready to fight. Instead his voice sounded pinched, ready to give up.

"I heard," Malfoy came closer still, his lips almost touching Harry's ear, "that the Boy Wonder doesn't have a date tonight for the dance. You haven't even gotten a single note today, have you?"

Harry ignored the shudder than ran down his spine and shoved the tall Slytherin back, away from him. Malfoy's heel caught a jagged stone and he fell backwards, his face a mask of surprise as he grabbed and caught hold of Harry's tie. Harry was pulled forward by the neck, but instead of falling against the wall, the two boys fell through it, landing on something soft with a grunt.

Harry blinked, looking into Malfoy's surprised face, his grey eyes wide. The surprise was quickly replaced with anger. "What did you do, Potter? Get off me." Malfoy was squirming underneath him on what looked like a plush rug. It wasn't an altogether horrible sensation and Harry felt heat spring up in his cheeks.

"I didn't do anything, what did you do, Malfoy?" He pushed off of Malfoy's chest harder than was necessary and got to his feet. He straightened his glasses and ran a hand through his messy dark hair. "Where are we?" He squinted around the room. It was definitely not the dungeons. It looked like the living room from a rustic but cozy cabin. A roaring fireplace was at the far end of the room, the only light, and between them, a plush couch and a couple of arm chairs and more rugs strewn about the wooden floor. Was that a bed in the far corner? The light was so low it was hard to see.

"How the bloody hell should I know? Fucking Scarhead getting me mixed up in some kind of trouble, and we're definitely late for Potions.." Malfoy grumbled as he got to his feet, straightening his tie and flipping his hair out of his eyes.

"Malfoy," Harry started.

"Potter, where's the door?" Malfoy's voice was edging towards a higher register.

Harry sighed. "I was about to ask you that." He watched as Malfoy walked the length of the small room, looking round. His long legs carried him back to Harry and then away again. "Are you pacing?"

Malfoy shot him an icy look. "I'm observing, Potter. I'm looking for a way out of here. It's more than you're currently doing."

Harry raised his arms in a shrug. Malfoy had him there, but he wasn't exactly going to admit it. He turned away from Malfoy's pacing and examined the wall they had just fallen through. He placed his hands on it. Solid. "Hey," he called over his shoulder, "maybe it's like the platform."

"What?" Malfoy snapped at him.

Harry grimaced. "Like Platform nine and three quarters. You can only go the one way through."

Malfoy scoffed and Harry heard him resume his pacing.

Harry gasped as something started happening to the wall in front of him. "What is it, Potter? Being overdramatic as usual?" came Malfoy's slow drawl.

"Letters," Harry said in a quiet voice. Golden shimmering letters were forming under Harry's hands. Malfoy stood next to him, watching with him.

"It doesn't say anything," Malfoy spat, as if it were Harry's fault.

"Well, it's something." Harry turned to see Malfoy's sharp profile. His brow was drawn in concentration. The firelight on Malfoy's face cast rigid orange-tinted shadows. He was so close, concentrating on what Harry was showing him, his pinched face relaxing into something that was almost handsome.

"Something stupid," the other boy muttered.

Harry scowled. "Maybe it's a code," he said, "a puzzle." He was suddenly determined to figure it out ahead of Malfoy; if he didn't, he would never hear the end of it.

"Hogwarts doesn't have puzzle rooms."

"How would you know?"

"You've never read _Hogwarts: A History_, have you?" Draco Malfoy gave Harry a sardonic look. "Of course you haven't. Why should the Golden Boy ever need to pick up a history book?"

Harry silently fumed and turned his attention back to the letters. A few of the letters had symbols in between, like a plus, or a flourished ampersand. They seemed to be grouped together, two or three at a time matched up with another two or three, or in some cases, four or more. Harry stepped around the room, touching the walls. More letters lit up under his fingertips.

"I need a revealing spell or something," Harry whispered to himself.

"_Aparecium_," Malfoy said softly beside him, tapping his wand to the wall. Harry didn't have time to be surprised or impressed or some mixture of the two or more feelings besides, because the dim room suddenly lit up with gold writing spreading up the walls to the ceiling, down to the floor. "They're initials," Malfoy breathed. "Thousands of them."

Harry felt a rush of frustration. Initials. Like couples often carved into trees and benches in the muggle world. It was so painfully obvious. His eyes caught sight of one pair of initials that made his heart skip a beat. It was written on the ceiling, and larger than the others, because of course it would be. He grinned up at them, reading JP + LE over and over again. "It's my parents," Harry said, pointing excitedly. He met Malfoy's cool glare, suddenly remembering who he was with. "Right," he said sullenly. He kept looking round the room, finding more initials he recognized, some very very old, more of a tarnished bronze color (APWBD + GG, whoever that was) and some were more recent (MP + AW) and some were more recent still, shining bright gold (SF + DT). Harry let out a knowing chuckle.

"I'm glad you're having fun, Potter, but-" Malfoy's drawl suddenly cut off.

"What is it?" Harry crossed the room to join him. He looked pale, paler than usual anyway and his mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water. Harry followed the Slytherin's gaze to two sets of initials, both starting with LM, but ending with BL and NL, respectively.

"Potter.." Malfoy said weakly.

"Oh, um," Harry tried to pat Malfoy's shoulder in what he hoped would be a comforting gesture. Enemies they may be, but finding out your father messed around with your mother and her sister might be beyond that. "Er, sorry, there Malfoy. You know, these things happen, and uh-"

Malfoy abruptly sidestepped away from Harry's offered comfort, leaving his hand stranded in midair. "Not that Potter. I know where we are." He glared down his pointed nose at Harry, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Were you trying to comfort me?"

"What?" Harry stepped back, his cheeks blazing. "No, it's just that, I thought- you know where we are? Where are we?"

Draco smirked. "You really have no idea, do you?"

Harry pushed up his glasses and crossed his arms. "We don't have time, Malfoy. How do we get out of here?"

Malfoy's smirk grew a bit wider, a bit more genuine. Harry was startled to see Malfoy look almost normal. "Don't have time?" The other boy laughed. "What have you got to look forward to?" The tall Slytherin sauntered over to the blood red couch by the fire and sat down languidly, crossing one long leg over the other one, lacing his hands behind his blond head. "Last I heard, The Boy Who Lived was barely passing his classes, waiting for a dark lord to come out of hiding, doing a whole lot of nothing. It's been a long while, hasn't it Scarhead?"

Harry felt his hands ball into fists. He suddenly wished he had been trapped with anyone other than Draco Malfoy. "Why do you feel the need to constantly insult me? There's no one around to laugh with you."

Draco looked like he was actually thinking about it for a moment, then shrugged. "Would you believe that I'm a product of my environment?"

"I would, actually," Harry said, thinking of Lucius Malfoy. "The second time I met your dad, he tried to kill me."

Malfoy made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a snort. "Sounds about right."

"But that's a shitty excuse and you know it. I know it."

Draco turned to the side and managed to look down the side of his nose at him in disdain. "What do you know, Potter?"

Harry had a feeling, a connecting-the-dots sort of feeling and took a stab in the dark. "I know what it's like to not want to go home at the end of the school year." Malfoy's disdainful look evaporated. Harry smiled the smallest of smiles, knowing he had hit a nerve. He continued. "I know what it's like when your family doesn't give a shit about you. I know what it's like having a domineering, controlling presence watching your every move."

Malfoy had gone pale, his grey eyes wide. "How do you know all that, Potter?" His voice was a hoarse whisper.

Harry chuckled, then answered. "Because it's my life, too."

"You?" Draco snorted. "You and your horrible life being famous? Your important muggle family? Or how about all the teachers that love you? Your great friends?" The last word he spat out, as if it had a bad taste.

Harry laughed. It felt good and he realized he couldn't remember the last time he laughed like that. "Is that what people say about me?"

Malfoy only glared at him with his grey-blue eyes.

Harry cleared his throat. Something about Malfoy's stare was deeply unnerving. He wondered why he never noticed it before. "Well it isn't true. You going to tell me where we are, then? How we get out of here?"

Malfoy's stare didn't let up. "You know so much about me, Potter, tell me what is true about you."

Harry laughed a wry laugh this time. Telling his school bully all about his personal life? That would only bring a new kind of torture, only give him more ammunition, more nicknames. He'd had enough jokes about closets and stairs from his cousin to last a lifetime. "Not a chance, Malfoy. Tell me what's going on."

"Tell me the truth, and I'll tell you what we need to do to get out of here."

Harry sat down on the other end of the couch, as far away from the other boy as he could get. "Absolutely not." He leaned on the arm of the couch, resting his chin on his fist. Whatever he said, Malfoy was right, he didn't really have anywhere to be, no one waiting for him. He doubted his close friends would even miss him. He sighed. "At least there's no hearts and cherub deliveries in here," he muttered to himself.

"Valentine's Day is horrid, isn't it." Harry turned to Malfoy in surprise. He didn't expect Malfoy to hear him, let alone respond and have the same opinion. Malfoy's eyes were closed but he continued, "What, Potter? I'm not allowed to share an opinion?"

"You're allowed," Harry stammered, "I just thought you- you know.."

Draco opened one silver eye. "What."

Harry tried to ignore the heat rising in his face. "It's just, you're popular enough, in your house, that is, aren't you? You've always got that one girl hanging around you. And if you're making fun of me for not having a date you must have-"

Malfoy's sudden laughter cut him off. "Who? Pansy? Yeah, she wishes."

Harry scowled. "Then why-"

"Love is stupid, Potter," Malfoy sat up straight, uncrossing his legs, leaning towards Harry. "It's a useless emotion that only leaves you miserable and vulnerable."

"Is that what you think?"

"Prove otherwise."

Harry thought a minute. "But your parents-" Harry was cut off by another laugh, this one short, barking, and rueful. Harry glared at him. "Your mother, then."

"Nice try, Potter, but no."

"There's no one else?"

"No." His answer was as flat as his gaze.

"There has to be," Harry insisted. He didn't know why he cared so much all of a sudden. He had assumed everyone had a better life than he did, even Malfoy.

"There isn't. You have someone, Scarhead? One of your many followers?"

Harry wasn't sure if Malfoy was making fun of him or not. He had the same sort of drawl to his voice, but the sneer was gone. He himself had found some love, few and far between, but love still. His godfather. His friends, before they got together and started to love each other. Cho, for a little while. Harry frowned as he realized a pattern. "Actually, no. I don't either." It must have been the way Malfoy was looking at him in that moment, his rapturous attention that made Harry start talking. "My aunt and uncle aren't important muggles, they're terrible people. My cousin is worse yet. I lived under the stairs in a cupboard for the first 12 years of my life. Picked on at school. I didn't know what magic was, I just knew weird things happened to me. Teachers come and go. Mostly go. I lost my parents, lost my godfather, lost my friends, and girlfriends, well, they just don't stick, I guess."

"Don't stick." Malfoy had a weird smile on his face. "I like that, Potter. Can I use that?"

Harry smiled back. "Yeah, sure."

Malfoy sighed deeply, stretched, and pushed himself to his feet. Harry watched him wander about the dim room, waiting for the insults to start back up. He did just give him a goldmine, after all. Draco trailed his fingers along the opposite wall, making the hodgepodge of letters glow, the golden light softening his sharp features. He turned to find Harry staring. "It's a make out room, Potter."

Harry blinked. "A what?"

Draco shrugged. "It's sort of a legend, only hinted at in books. As far as I know, it only opens on Saint Valentine's Day. A couple wanders in here and can't leave until they," his hands were turning in circles in the air, as if searching for a word, "do the deed," he finally finished.

"What?" Harry squeaked.

Malfoy pulled at his shirt collar as if it had suddenly grown too tight. "Not the literal deed, per say but-"

"We're not a couple!"

"I don't think the room cares that much, Potter."

"But, we're not a couple." Harry knew he was repeating himself, it just seemed like an important point to make.

Malfoy gave him a level look.

"We're not, though," Harry insisted.

"Do you think I don't know that?" Malfoy's sneering drawl was back.

"No, it's just, it's just," he floundered, unable to form a coherent thought. Kissing? Making out with Malfoy? Maybe more? He stared at his hands.

"Not fair?" Malfoy smirked at him.

Harry's anger flared. "That's not what I was going to say." He wished intensely that he had gone to Potions class instead of trying to stick up for his friends. When he spoke again, his voice sounded small and far away. "How far do we have to go?"

"Have to?" Did Malfoy blush? It must have been the dim light. "It could be a lot worse, Potter. What if you had tripped into Goyle and gotten stuck in here with him instead of me? Or your weaselly best friend?" He scoffed. "At least I'm rich and handsome."

Harry turned away to stare at the writhing flames. He imagined making out with Goyle, then with Ron. His stomach turned. Malfoy was, at least, better looking than any of them. Harry started to imagine what it might be like, soft lips, long fingers tangled in his dark hair, leaning up to kiss someone so tall- and he cut it off. "You're still a racist prick," he said quietly.

"Is that why you cursed me so? Last year?" Malfoy's voice was barely above a whisper. Harry hadn't noticed that the other boy had come to sit beside him on the sofa.

Harry blinked at him, suddenly so close, the implications of the room becoming suffocating. Harry cleared his throat, nervous. "That was, um, there was more to that, and you know it."

"The war," Malfoy said quietly, his sneer and drawl completely absent.

"Yes," Harry breathed, "and I didn't know what it did. I didn't know what you were doing. I was.. I thought I knew what I was doing."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "You thought you knew what you were doing with a curse you weren't familiar with? You very nearly killed me, Potter."

Harry couldn't think of a response, so he didn't say anything. He looked around the room, wishing the letters would glow again so he could have a distraction.

"You nearly killed me because I was a jerk to you and your friends?" Malfoy pressed.

"Was?" It was out of Harry's mouth before he knew it. He could see the hurt on the blond boy's face, and it made his chest feel tight, as though he couldn't draw a breath. He had felt badly about the curse; he hadn't meant to kill Malfoy, only disable him from helping the other side. It hadn't ever occurred to him to see things from Malfoy's point of view. Now that he was, it was quite uncomfortable.

"You were the one who rejected me, all those years ago. I saw you, I knew who you were, and I wanted," he trailed off and Harry sat very still, afraid that if he moved, Malfoy would stop talking. "I wanted options."

"Options?"

Malfoy took a deep breath, straightened his shirt sleeves, and gave Harry a discerning glare.

"What options?" Harry asked again.

"Look, Potter," Malfoy turned his body on the sofa so that he was facing Harry, their legs touching the tinniest of increments. It was all Harry could think about. "Let's agree now, that nothing we say or do leaves this room. That's reasonable, isn't it?"

"Yeah right," Harry scoffed. "Like you're not going to leave this room and tell everyone about how Harry Potter wanted to kiss you so badly, he forced you into this room, let's all laugh about it until the end of time?"

Draco's face held no emotion, his steely eyes glinted in the firelight. "I don't want this getting out, Harry. Probably more than you do."

Harry considered it for a moment. Rich and powerful wizarding family, obvious connections to the Dark Lord, just to name a few, probably. "I can't trust you."

Malfoy laid a hand on his knee and gave him a rueful smile. "You probably shouldn't, to be honest." Harry's eyes stayed on the other boy's hand. It was so familiar, so warm, and yet so strange. Malfoy's eyes followed his and he abruptly took his hand away. Harry missed it immediately. "We can do a promise."


	2. Chapter 2

"A promise? Like an Unbreakable Vow?" Harry had only heard of such things. "Seems a bit extreme," he said uneasily.

"No, no, a promise. A lesser binding. It causes you a degree of physical pain if you speak about things you aren't supposed to. It won't kill you," Malfoy added quickly, based on Harry's facial expression probably, "but it wouldn't be fun. Then we can proceed without recompense."

Harry thought it over. He stared at his shoes and considered the deal. Malfoy could talk about it, but if it was physically painful, he probably wouldn't. He was a bit of a coward in that department. And not proceeding, as Malfoy so elegantly put it, meant they would never leave this room. He was stuck. Harry sighed. "So what do we do?"

"Well," Malfoy cleared his throat and swept his hair to one side, "we could start with a kiss and see if a door appears."

Harry felt the corner of his mouth tick upwards in a small smile. "No, I meant the promise."

If Malfoy was embarrassed, he didn't show it. His silver eyes were focused on Harry's own. "Right. Yes. Give me your hand." Malfoy opened his palm toward Harry, as if waiting for Harry to give him something. After only a slight hesitation, Harry put his hand in Malfoy's. He looked up to see a smirk on his handsome pointed face. "Other way, Potter." Harry scowled and flipped his hand so that his too, was palm up. Malfoy's other hand followed, palm down. He nodded at Harry, who got the message and put his other hand on top.

Harry waited, their hands sandwiched together. Malfoy's hands were soft, his fingers cool despite the warmth of the small room. Harry was suddenly very aware of how sweaty his palms were getting. "What now?"

"Shh." Malfoy closed his eyes, the smirk still lingering on his face. "Think about the time we've spent in this room, think about the things that could still happen in this room. This room is our binding force, nothing leaves it. We won't speak of it, any of it, not to anyone, for as long as we draw breath." Malfoy opened his eyes, stormy with intent, locked on Harry's. "I promise to you, Harry Potter, to uphold this agreement or face the consequences."

Harry stared dumbly into Draco's eyes, waiting for something to happen. Malfoy raised his eyebrows and whispered, "Now you."

"Oh, right. I, uh," Harry hesitated.

"You wanted to do this, so do it right. Say what I said but use my name." Malfoy's voice was quiet and clipped.

Harry felt his cheeks grow hot. "I promise to you, Draco Malfoy, to uphold this agreement or face the consequences." Harry gasped as his hands felt prickly all over, as if he had taken to long to make the promise and his hands had fallen asleep and now had the pins and needles of circulation returning.

He looked up to find Draco smirking at him.

"What? Did I do it right?"

"You felt it, didn't you? You can take your hands away, if you want." Malfoy's drawl was slower than usual, giving Harry a strange feeling he couldn't quite place.

Harry pulled his hands away slowly, noting the slight disappointment on Draco's face. "What did you mean before, about options and meeting me?"

Draco cleared his throat and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt. Harry froze. "Relax, Potter, I'm only getting comfortable. This room is a bit warm, isn't it?" He was rolling up his shirtsleeves. "My father wanted me to get close to you, that first year, in the hopes that you could be turned. But me," he paused to renew his smirk, lifting his eyes to Harry's, "I saw a chance to leave my life, to leave dark magic, behind me."

Harry could only blink. Could it be true? That Draco Malfoy had seen hope in befriending him? And Harry had dashed it all away with one well-placed quip. And how would a young boy respond to that? Just how Malfoy had been treating him for the past 6 years, he supposed. Malfoy didn't have any reason to lie to him, not after the promise. Harry still felt the needly feeling in his fingertips. He shook his hands a little.

"Don't worry, it will pass soon."

"I wasn't worried." Harry's voice came out more defensively than he had intended. These revelations, these truths from the boy who had, up until now, tormented him at every possible turn. It was all starting to make sense, wasn't it? Things had gotten out of their control, circumstances were impossibly larger than two teenagers could possibly comprehend.

Draco sighed next to him, a miserable sort of sound. He turned and got up, leaving Harry's leg missing the spot where they had touched. He watched Malfoy lay an arm over the mantel and stare into the fire. He got out his wand and Harry wondered what he intended to do. Malfoy muttered a spell, pointed his wand at the fire, and the room cooled considerably.

Harry knew an apology was probably in order, that it would make this whole thing easier, but it was as though his mouth were filled with porridge. "Malfoy, I-" but he stopped talking as soon as the other boy looked at him. He had a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't as if he was completely at fault. Malfoy was a prick, ever since he could remember. His thoughts went back to Malfoy admitting he was a product of his environment. Rightly so, he supposed, just as he was a product of his. He sighed and turned his focus to getting out of the room. "I'm sorry our.. relationship.. started off so.. difficult. I had never considered…" and he trailed off again, unsure of where his words were taking him.

"What, Potter, that I would have feelings?"

"Well, yes, but," Harry paused for Malfoy's scoff that followed, "I hadn't realized I affected you the way that I did."

Malfoy turned and started to saunter over to where Harry sat. "Is that an apology?"

"Um, sort of? You weren't exactly best friend material when we met, you know."

"True enough." Malfoy had his hands in his pockets and his shrug was all shoulders. "I'm sorry I made fun of you and your friends incessantly. You were all easy targets, though. And I was angry."

"I think I understand." Harry cleared his throat. A lot of fantastic things had happened to him in the last six years, but he never thought making amends with Draco Malfoy would be one of them. "I'm sorry I nearly killed you with that curse. I was also quite angry."

Draco clapped then, startling Harry. "Good, good. You feel better, Potter?"

"Um," Harry paused, "it's a bit strange. There's still everything that happened last year and-"

"Well, I feel better. Victims of circumstance and all of that, aren't we? We don't have to resolve our differences, Potter, we don't even need to be friends. We just need to, you know, get on with it." He sat next to Harry once more, very close, their knees touching, his smirk turning into more of a leer.

Harry shifted in his seat. "You don't have a problem with this? Our initials will be here, for anyone to see, forever, no matter what we promise each other."

Draco looked around, then back at Harry. "I suppose. But hardly anyone knows it's here and I'm sure we're not the first gay couple who wandered in here."

"We're not a couple," Harry felt his cheeks flush.

"Or the first couple who didn't really want to make out."

"We're not a couple!"

Malfoy's cool fingers were suddenly on his hot cheek, a gentle touch, then he was leaning forward, ever so slowly. "You're kind of cute when you're angry." Harry froze for the second time that afternoon, his limbs feeling like dead weights, a tightness in his chest. He swallowed hard. Malfoy called him cute. Harry felt a tingling sensation, not unlike butterflies in his stomach, except a bit lower. Sharing a kiss with Malfoy was something he could probably do but wanting to do it went against everything he thought he stood for. The other boy was so close now.

"Malfoy, I-"

"You're so tense, Potter." Malfoy's voice was low, like he was telling Harry a secret.

Harry looked down at his hands. They were clenched into fists and his left knee was bouncing up and down. Malfoy's hand was on his bouncing knee and he stopped. He forced his hands to unclench, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers. He looked up to find Malfoy smirking at him. Again.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Harry accused.

Draco let out a small chuckle. "It is a bit amusing, I won't lie to you. I've seen you face dementors and dragons but the prospect of kissing me has got you all out of sorts." Malfoy's other hand was gently stroking his jaw. A ghost of a touch. "If I knew how much it would bother you, I would have tried to kiss you years ago." He leaned forward slowly, his grip on Harry's jaw tightening slightly. Harry could see the intent in his grey eyes.

"When?" Harry asked, eager to keep the other boy talking.

"When what?" Malfoy all but growled, sending a new wave of shivers through him.

"When would you have kissed me?"

"Seriously, Potter. I'm trying to woo you a bit. It's Valentine's Day. I'm not just going to steal a kiss from you and leave."

Harry blinked. The idea that Malfoy could just take what he needed to leave the room hadn't occurred to him. He didn't think Malfoy would be brave enough to try something like that.

"I may be a prick, but I'm still a gentleman, Harry. If we're doing this, we're doing it right. I intend to have a little fun with you." Malfoy's gaze softened, his long fingers winding their way through the hair at Harry's temple. "I'd like you to want to have some fun, too."

"It's just for fun, then?" Harry didn't know why, but he felt a tiny wave of disappointment.

Draco scoffed, but it was good-natured, or at least it seemed that way to Harry. "If that makes you feel better about it, yes. Making the best of a bad situation." Malfoy's fingers reached for Harry's glasses then, plucking them off his face. He smiled at Harry, a genuine smile, Harry thought, but without his glasses it was nearly impossible to tell, while he took out his wand and muttered, "_Repairo_." Malfoy reached over and put them back on Harry's nose, curling the ends around his ears with great care, as if he had a great deal of affection for him. The crack in his lens was gone and they were straightened besides.

"Thank you," Harry whispered, marveling at Malfoy's gentleness and thoughtfulness. "Either you're a very good actor, or I don't know you at all."

Draco laughed his barking laugh. "Rest assured, Potter, I'm not acting. I've had to lie about who I am for a long time and will probably continue to do so after we leave this room. My entire life will be a lie, now that I think about it."

"Why? Why would you do that?"

"It's complicated. You've never lied about who you are? For your muggle relatives who kept you in the closet?"

"I've always tried not to, but I suppose, yeah, I have."

"But you can be yourself at school."

"Yes."

"I cannot. If anyone knew I was here, with you, like this, what we're about to do, it would ruin me." Malfoy was looking at him in that penetrating way, as if there was something more he couldn't say but wanted Harry to grasp. It was different than before, more open, and Harry didn't know for sure, but he knew he didn't want him to look away. Malfoy's fingers were on the side of his face again, sliding slowly down to his neck, playing along his shirt collar. Harry closed his eyes and waited for the shudders to stop.

"Is this okay? If I touch you?" Draco's voice was a low throaty whisper. Harry couldn't find any words. He couldn't remember the last time he had been physically affectionate with anyone. Short hugs from Hermione didn't count. He barely shared a kiss with his last girlfriend. He suddenly realized he didn't know what to do. His body told him one thing while his mind told him another. It felt good. It felt terrible. Draco's cool touch left him. He opened his eyes and saw only Draco's silver ones staring into his, into him.

Harry finally nodded. Draco scooted closer, winding a long arm around his back, making Harry's breath catch in his throat. Malfoy's other hand resumed the light caresses on his neck, his face inches from Harry's. "You can touch me, too. If you like," Malfoy's throaty drawl was quiet and sexy in his ear.

Harry nervously put a hand on Draco's thigh.

"Harry Potter," Malfoy breathed, "are you trembling? Should I make the fire warm again?" There was a hint of knowing in his voice, a hint of a joke, Harry thought. He could feel the pull of Malfoy's lips in his ear, curling into a grin. "It's alright, Harry, we promised. No one will know." His hands were running through the hair on the back of Harry's head, his touch so soft. Malfoy was gentle, considerate, and, Harry hated to admit it, a total gentleman. It was hard to believe.

"I've never done this before," he blurted.

Draco pulled away and Harry wished he hadn't said anything. He smirked at Harry, his grey eyes sharp and knowing. "The girlfriends don't stick, is that right?"

"Yes, that's it." Harry felt silly.

"Not even long enough to get a kiss?" The smirk on Malfoy's face was terribly annoying.

Harry scowled. "I've kissed before, it's just.."

"You've never been properly snogged before."

"Yes, that's it," Harry said quietly. "Especially not by.."

"A boy?" Malfoy's smirk turned into a grin. He really was handsome, grinning at him like that in the light of the fire.

Harry's cheeks blazed. "I was thinking the son of a Death Eater, but yes, that too, I suppose."

"I gathered that much, Potter. There's something else keeping you from enjoying yourself, isn't there?"

Harry fiddled with his hands nervously. "I uh," he muttered. He couldn't find the words to say how weird their current situation and relationship status was, sides of good and evil notwithstanding.

"You aren't attracted to me? Then we can just agree to get it over with."

"No, it's not that," Harry said quickly. Maybe too quickly, judging by the bemused expression on Malfoy's face.

"I'm not asking you to like me, Harry. I'm not asking you to forego your war and settle down. I'm only asking that you let everything else go. Just for a little while. Do what you want to," Malfoy came closer as he talked, his voice dropping back to low tones, "or tell me what you want me to do to you," his hands were in Harry's hair, his breath was on Harry's neck, "this will never happen again. Right now, it's only me," his lips brushed Harry's neck, running shivers up into the base of his skull, "and you."

Harry exhaled, letting himself relax a tiny bit. He didn't want to admit it, but Draco was right. And the other boy was making him feel so good. His hand went back to Draco's thigh, his other gently touched Malfoy's side, near his ribs. It was intimate, it was strange, it was nice to touch and be touched. He never thought getting close to Malfoy could be this way. He could smell the almost flowery scent of his hair, and a clean laundry sort of smell mixed with a spicy cologne or aftershave. It only doubled the tingly feeling below his belt. He felt Draco's lips against his neck, more forceful this time, but not yet a kiss. Harry imagined he was probably smirking, still. The thought made him grip the other boy tighter, his hands moving up Draco's thigh a little higher as he felt himself get a little braver. This time he definitely felt Draco grin against the soft flesh of his neck, followed by a purposeful kiss, then another.

Harry gasped without meaning to, shrugging his shoulders against the intimate onslaught. Malfoy backed up, but only enough to see into his face. "Don't you like what I'm doing?" His smirk was changing into more of a gentle smile, or maybe it was only Harry's perception that was changing.

Harry closed his eyes, feeling breathless. "Very much so."

"Shall I go slower, Potter?"

Harry cleared his throat. "No, it's okay."

"I need you to open your eyes, Harry." Malfoy's voice was slow and gentle. Harry thought he might be able to listen to it until the end of time. Draco talking like that. To him.

"Why?" Harry whispered, doing as Draco said.

The blond Slytherin was touching his face again, so familiar. "Because your eyes are the most brilliant shade of green I've ever seen. I never noticed before."

Harry chuckled. "Everyone says that." He reached up and removed his glasses, folding them up and setting them aside.

"Not everyone does this," Draco muttered, and wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling him closer still, into his lap, burying his pointed nose in Harry's neck behind his ear. Harry gasped again, followed by a short, excited laugh. He felt more than saw Malfoy grin, his hands firm on the small of his back. Harry's hands found his soft blond hair and he wove his fingers through it, barely touching his scalp. "I can make you feel good, Harry, you just have to let me," Malfoy whispered into his ear and Harry tried to control his shuddering body. His cool fingers were on one side of Harry's neck, his mouth on the other, teasing, playing. "Tell me you want me to."

Harry could barely stand it. He squirmed against the other boy and Malfoy only held him tighter, intensifying everything. "I want you to," Harry breathed.

"Want me to what?" He could hear Malfoy's smirk in his voice.

"You prick," Harry said with a smile.

Draco kissed his neck, kissed him behind his ear. "You want my what?"

Harry laughed, losing himself in the moment. "Malfoy," he warned, trying to sound like he meant it, but his hands were touching Draco's neck, sneaking into his open shirt collar, caressing the space between his neck and shoulder. Draco growled appreciatively, sending another shockwave through Harry. He felt Malfoy's lips travel to his jaw, kissing him there, kissing his cheek sweetly, chastely. Draco's cool fingers rested on his chin, tilting his head up. Harry let it happen, their eyes meeting. He felt embarrassed, but at the same time, too turned on to care very much. "Kiss me," Harry whispered, marveling at the openness of Draco's stormy colored eyes.

Draco hesitated, but only to smirk at Harry for a moment. Harry wasn't sure if he hated it or loved it. Malfoy's grip tightened on his chin, as if he were afraid of Harry getting away, and his lips touched his, barely, gently. Draco's lips were soft, the feeling electric, sending jolts through Harry's body. He gripped Draco's shirt collar in response, pulling himself closer, their bodies meeting. Draco's kisses grew bolder, a firm press of lips upon lips, slightly parted, there and gone again. Harry fought to control his breathing, coming in short gasps between kisses, his heart hammering against his chest.

Harry felt Draco's tongue snake between his lips, touching his tongue. He couldn't stop the small moan that escaped him, the heat flashing up in his face once more. Draco's hands went to Harry's hips, pulling on his belt. Harry grunted in pleasure and surprise, his hands going to either side of Draco's face, touching his soft, flawless skin, opening his mouth, deepening the kiss. He felt Draco's mouth smile against his and he hoped he wouldn't speak, that he would just keep kissing him.

A sudden light spilled across the two of them, making Harry open his eyes. They both turned as one towards the glowing outline of a door. They turned back to each other, still wrapped around each other, neither one of them speaking. Harry could see a question in Draco's eyes, but he didn't want to be the one to ask it. Draco's face broke into a cool smirk.

"Want to try the door, Potter?"


End file.
